Through the Curtain
by guilty angelic
Summary: What lies beyond the curtain? Sirius gets one more chance at life. Multi-chapter, MWPP timeline. Rated for safety.


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Through the Curtain

Prologue

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, Sirius would still be here. T.T

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            "SIRIUS! SIRIUS!"

            "Harry?" Sirius asked. No one responded. "Harry? Where are you? Remus? Albus? Hermione, Ron, anyone?" He couldn't see at all… was he dead? That would make sense— after all, Bellatrix had just sent the Killing Curse at him, thus knocking him into the curtain…

            He shuddered. He had heard the voices as he fell through the curtain, the little whispers of… whatever had been so unlucky as to fall through there before him.

            Wait, had he just shuddered? He couldn't shudder if he wasn't alive. If that was the case, however, why was it so dark? _Well, duh,_ he answered himself,_ I sort of have to open my eyes first!_ He did so immediately, and the first thing it his line of sight was the all-too- familiar dark-blue cloth of the all-too-familiar canopy of the all-too-familiar bed in the all-too-familiar room. The open eyes then widened considerably in an emotion that Sirius had not felt in quite a while: pure, unadulterated fear.

            Sirius closed his eyes as he gulped. He then slowly sat up and looked into the all-too-familiar mirror across from the all-too-familiar bed.

            And screamed bloody murder.

            He, Sirius Black, thiry-six years old as of last December, was staring into the fathomless black eyes of his eleven-year-old self, sitting in his old bed in his old room at Number 12 Grimmauld Place.

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            Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Andromeda Black were sitting around their Aunt Morrigan's breakfast table when they heard a loud yell and crash from upstairs.

            "What the hell?" Bellatrix yelped, startled by the noise. Andromeda and Narcissa exchanged smirks, receiving a treacherous glare from Bellatrix. "What is he doing up there, anyway?"

            "Studying the Dark Arts, supposedly," Narcissa said with a sniff, "but as we all know he is such a Mudblood sympathizer, it's quite obvious that it's not true." Bellatrix sneered.

            "Hopefully, Slytherin house will be able to rid him of those horrid notions," she grumbled. Andromeda looked between her two sisters and contained a sigh. She, unlike the rest of her family, was in Ravenclaw house, a fifth year.

            Sirius came stumbling down the stairs moments later, looking like he had fallen over a cliff, lost a quart of blood, and been forced to kiss Severus Snape.

            "What happened to _you_?" Bellatrix sneered, staring at her cousin in disgust.

            "Ah— buh— wha—meh—"

            "Complete words and phrases, Siri, dear," Andromeda said with a raised eyebrow. "We can't comprehend random syllables."

            "Andie? How are you alive?!" Sirius yelped. His cousins exchanged glances.

            "Well," Andromeda began slowly, "it's really quite simple. My heart is beating, I'm breathing, and my brain is giving and receiving electric signals. Are you sure you're okay, Siri?" Sirius nodded dumbly and slumped down in one of the chairs, staring blankly at the wall opposite him. The girls watched him, Andromeda with concern, Narcissa with indifference, and Bellatrix with thinly-veiled disgust.

            Meanwhile, Sirius was having a mental crisis. _Ohmigodohmigodohmigodohmigod…_ His inner monologue continued this way for several moments, until he had a divine revelation. _Ohmigo— wait a minute, does this mean I get to start over?_ He perked up slightly, his sudden outward change in posture startling the girls. _I can change things, this time. I know not to trust Wormtail this time around. James can live! Lily can live! We'll be happy this time. I'm getting a second chance!_ Sirius let out a whoop of glee, jumping and racing out into the hall, past his ancestors' portraits ("Slow down, you bloody whelp!") and out the front door, where he spun around in the front yard, laughing like a madman.

            Bellatrix curled her lip and watched him from the kitchen window. "Do you think we should call St. Mungo's?"

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            Sirius stood on Platform 9 ¾, standing slightly away from the rest of his family. He scanned the crowd: there was James, there was Lily… ah, there Remus was, hiding in a corner as he watched the other children bid farewell to their families… Sirius even caught a glimpse of Peter Pettigrew, from whom he quickly turned away, blood boiling.

            He sighed and turned to his family. Regulus, only nine and not yet completely influenced by the Black doctrines, smiled and gave a small wave. Sirius smiled back— maybe Regulus's life could be changed as well.

            "Er… Goodbye, then," he bid his parents, feeling only slightly guilty at the looks of pride on their faces. If they only knew that he would be sickened by the mere thought of being in Slytherin… Sirius heaved his trunk onto the train, flashed a final grin to Regulus, and boarded the train.

            He found an empty compartment and sank into a seat, watching the wizards outside mill around the platform. He was assailed with familiar faces, from the barely-known nostalgic seventh years to the acutely familiar, nervous-looking first years.

            This time around, Sirius Black was not nervous. He knew what was coming. He knew what to do. And he was going to have a hell of a good time.

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A/N: Well, there's the prologue! I hope you liked it, and if you did, leave a review!

Pocky


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